


I Always Knew You'd Break My Heart

by colebotanica (dontrushme)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:28:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4990213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontrushme/pseuds/colebotanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trespasser-induced angst with a happy ending</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> major trespasser dlc spoilers! If you haven't played trespasser, you might not want to read this.

There was a lot that Kahlan Cadash hadn’t mentioned in his letters. He hadn’t mentioned the growing pain cupped in his palm- it would probably go away. They would figure it out. It was hard enough on Dorian to be alone in Tevinter. He had mentioned how he felt, facing the hole in the world where Felix had been; before the Inquisitor, Felix had been Dorian’s closest and only friend. Kahlan didn’t want to bother his love with unnecessary worries.

He also hadn’t mentioned the ring he’d forged- borrowing tools from Dagna, he’d crafted a gold ring inlaid with intricately cut emeralds. It weighted down his pockets more every day that went by without Dorian.

By the time the Exalted Council came around, Kahlan found the pain from the anchor harder and harder to ignore. The green crawled up his veins like blood poisoning. But the thoughts of his lover kept him going- that, and the elfroot he had taken to chewing the way some Templars take lyrium.

The day he arrived at the Winter Palace was beautiful- this part of Orlais was mild, and the warm air smelled of dry grass and grapes. As Kahlan looked out over the countryside, he heard solid footsteps approach him. Cassandra leaned against the railing next to him, her long arms crossed. To him, she seemed almost coltish, limbs too long for her body, even more so than most humans. But he knew her unwavering strength, and having her next to him was a comfort.

She was wearing the new armor that Josephine had bought her- it was light, rose-petal pink, with hearts cut into the shining silver, and it oddly suited her. Cassandra looked happy, a high blush on her cheeks, her lips curling into a smile. She must have just come from speaking to Varric. Kahlan returned the smile. “What’s going on, Cassandra?”

Cassandra cleared her throat, and to his surprise, her eyes started to fill with tears. “Just know, my friend, that I am proud to fight by your side. You are kind, and fair, and you deserve every happiness.” She smiled. “I know it sounds foolish, but I care for you. On such a momentous day… Well, that Dorian is Tevinter may raise some brows, but you deserve happiness.”

Kahlan’s hand went to his pocket. “How did you know?” He hadn’t said anything, to anyone. Dagna probably realized, but she wasn’t much of a gossiper. Maybe she had told Sera? He didn’t want Dorian to find out before he asked- he had it all planned out- Cassandra wasn’t shrewd enough to figure it out just from some tools. Had Leliana seen him? She certainly wasn’t above gossip, not with her oldest friends.

Cassandra laughed. “Varric told me!” Leave it to the least dwarf-y dwarf to realize that lapidary tools weren’t used for much other than cutting gemstones, and that the Inquisitor didn’t have much need for fine jewels. Kahlan pulled the glistening ring of gold out of his pocket and held it out on his intact palm.

She gasped, the tears that had been pooling in her eyes spilling over. They were both romantics, and soon Kahlan was sniffling as well. Cassandra had been his closest friend since Haven. She was passionate and blunt, and she took care of her friends. After pulling him in for a hug, she continued her impromptu speech; they got so little happiness, people like them. She told him to that he should cling onto what little joy he could find and keep.

 

His reunion with Dorian left Kahlan disappointed- in front of the Maker and everyone, he couldn’t say everything that was on his mind, couldn’t lose himself in Dorian’s gentle touches. It had been a long time with only letters, and now he had to attend to the Council, business, no time for pleasure.

After hours of pointless debating and politicking, Kahlan finally was able to escape the stifling nobility and return to his lover. It was the golden wash of late evening, and he found Dorian by the fountains, reading. As he got closer, the tense set of Dorian’s shoulders gave away the tone of the letter crumpling between his fingers. Kahlan sat next to him on the finely upholstered sofa, their knees pressed together. “What’s wrong?”

Dorian turned his head, and replied quietly, “It’s- I-“ his voice broke. Kahlan cupped Dorian’s cheek in his right hand, the regret in his lover’s green eyes tearing at his heart. Dorian closed his eyes and leaned into Kahlan’s palm. “My father is dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan said.

“I never- never spoke to him, not since he tried to get me to come home. I- wish I did. I can’t forgive what he-“ his voice broke- “what he did to me. But he arranged for me to come here, to keep me out of it, I suppose.” Kahlan brushed a light kiss to his cheek, and Dorian’s hand came up to cover his.

“I’ll have to return to Tevinter. Sooner rather than later. Can’t have Magisters romping around the South with their dwarven lovers. Imagine the scandal.” Bitterness furrowed his brow and turned his tone sour.

“Come with me,” Kahlan said, standing and offering his right hand.

They retired to their quarters, barely noticing the lush rooms that had been made up for the Inquisitor. The silk sheets were soft against bare skin, a breeze cooling the heat of their bodies. Kahlan drank in his lover’s presence, his perfumed skin, so prettily flushed in the candlelight. Paper was no replacement for the heady feeling that came from hearing his name fall from his lover’s lips.

His touches changed, reassured that his lover was not going to disappear, from desperate and needy to gentle, sweet, trying to show Dorian how much he had missed him, missed this, missed them.

In the warmth of his afterglow, Kahlan pulled his coat from where it had been tossed over a bedside table and reached into the pocket. Dorian was frowning slightly at the loss of his lover’s warmth, petulance furrowing his brow. Kahlan smiled, feeling lighter than he had in months. He returned to his lover’s side, letting their legs tangle together and holding Dorian’s left hand.

“My heart,” he said quietly. “My Dorian. I love you, more than anything. Every second we spend apart is painful. I would like to never have to be separate.” He held out the ring, watching Dorian’s expressive eyes carefully. “Will you marry me?”

For once, Dorian had no response, surprise written on his face. He looked down at the ring, shining softly in the glow of the candlelight, and back at Kahlan’s face, as though determining whether it was some kind of cruel joke. No matter how many times Kahlan professed his love, there were still times that Dorian would not believe him. Tears welled up in Dorian’s eyes, and he sniffed.

“Oh, amatus,” he said, taking the ring and slipping it onto his long, soft fingers, the fingers of an academic. He began to laugh, and pulled Kahlan into a tender kiss, his newly adorned fingers running along Kahlan’s jaw. He pulled back only to murmur, “yes, yes,” before leaning back into the kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, they had walked through the palace, finding each of their friends to tell them. Josephine and Cassandra had both burst into tears. Varric had said that they were welcome in Kirkwall any time, and really could let themselves in so he didn’t even have to invite them. Vivienne had chastised them for not giving her more warning so she could have brought her good wine.

That afternoon, the trouble with the Qunari began.

It, of course, started while the Council was in session- Leliana calling him out of her own Council, to show him the body. Once they had passed through the Eluvian, Kahlan’s left arm began to hurt, acute in a way it hadn’t been since the very beginning. He was glad for the elfroot in his pockets; it made it easier to fight without letting the pain slow him.

Dorian watched him carefully, his brow creasing in worry with every leaf Kahlan put in his mouth. Varric and Cassandra didn’t let on, but they had clearly noticed, too. They made their slow way through the Elvhen sanctuary, facing spirit warriors and Qunari. Each fight won took up residence in Kahlan’s shoulders, his arms growing heavy with each swing of his longsword.

Deep within the sanctuary was an unlit stone room, dark as ink. An elvhen statue crackled with magic, and when Kahlan stepped closer, it ripped into his hand. Kahlan screamed, falling to his knees, the magic from the anchor turning the room a sickly green. It burned in his bones, crackled like lightning up his arm, excruciating, unbearable. The pain slowly subsided, leaving Kahlan to stumble to his feet. Dorian was at his side immediately, pulling him up, supporting him as Cassandra finished off a demon in the corner.

“Amatus,” Dorian said, urgent and worried, “are you all right? What happened?”

Kahlan looked down at his palm. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Oddly enough, not a lie. The magic crackled around his arm in a way that it usually reserved for closing rifts, and it should’ve hurt, but it just felt numb. Dorian forced him to take a potion, but left it at that, with not much more than a worried look.

 

The mine was cavernous, massive, precarious. Every few minutes it would shake, and Kahlan would feel the explosions deep in his chest. He didn’t mind the Deep Roads, but his vision was only as good as a surface dwarf and this blue-black cave left him nervous. He held Dorian’s left hand with his right, clutching it as though it was a lifeline in the blackness.

Occasionally, the anchor would crackle to life and throw green light. Sometimes he did it on purpose to light the way, but mostly it did so at its own leisure and his expense. The pain had come crawling back with a vengeance, and with it, a nagging fear. The Qunari operation, the immediate fear of their invasion, of the mine collapsing… dying in battle was one thing, honorable, likely quick. The anchor could take days to consume him.

Dorian seemed to sense his unrest, and ran his thumb along Kahlan’s fingers. “I’ll protect you.” It was reassuring, soothing; Dorian made the platitudes seem sincere. Kahlan could feel the warm band of gold where it wrapped around Dorian’s finger. Just a few days ago, it had seemed like they could have the world. Kahlan had thought the Maker would be kind to them, that He would allow them reprieve from the sacrifices they had been asked to make again and again. It had been foolish. But Kahlan couldn’t totally rid himself of hope. If they were still alive, right now, they could still figure out a solution.

They primed and detonated barrel after barrel of gaatlok, the Qunari mining operation falling apart around them. They could risk their lives to save the South. Another sacrifice.

 

The pain had grown constant, throbbing, shooting up his arm. He could barely concentrate on what Josephine and Cullen were bickering about. Suddenly, the anchor crackled to life, wrenching a cry from Kahlan’s lips and throwing him to the ground. He rode out the wave, sobbing, clutching the mark to his chest.

As it began to subside, barely, by inches, Kahlan looked up at his friends- Josephine looked terrified, but he could barely see her, his eyes blurred by pain and tears. “I don’t want to die,” he sobbed.

 

Kahlan stumbled into their quarters, still clutching his left hand to his chest. It glowed faintly in the dark, and the pain hadn’t fully receded. It probably never would. Dorian was there, and he fell into bed next to his lover. He would deal with the Qunari after he had this conversation, after he had given his fiancée the time he could. Kahlan would give his life trying to save people, but this was one thing they couldn’t have.


	3. Chapter 3

Kahlan- fair, kind, a light in the darkness. Dorian had never let himself love the way he loved Kahlan, and this was why. You thought it could work out, that everything would be okay. But that had never been true.

Dorian sat on their bed, waiting for his lover to return from his meeting with his advisors. He had taken off the ring and was tracing it with his fingers, the cool circle soothing the ache, playing its part in their game of pretend. Heavy footsteps sounded in the doorway, and Kahlan practically fell onto the bed next to Dorian. As soon as he was close enough, Dorian’s hands were on his lover, clutching him close, pressing kisses all over his face. Kahlan traced circles on Dorian’s arm with his right hand- his left lay by his side, twitching, crackling.

The desperation of their reunion returned, only infinitely more intense. The passion of two lovers who knew their time was up, who wanted to live in the moment forever. They made love, Dorian whispering his love into Kahlan’s neck.

There was no relief, no warm afterglow. There was only the melancholy. Dorian pulled Kahlan to his chest.

“I’m going to die,” Kahlan said.

It was like a sword through his chest. Dorian had known, it had been obvious. But the words tore him open, leaving his heart exposed for the carrion crows.

“I would give up everything I have, to let you live,” Dorian said. His voice was thin, and broken. His grief tugged at his throat and stung at his eyes.

“Dorian,” Kahlan said. “Dorian, Dorian. My heart, my everything. I wouldn’t trade anything for the years we’ve had together. I only wish we could have had more. I love you.”

The tears came thick and fast. “I love you,” Dorian whispered around the grief lodged in his chest, tears spilling onto the nice sheets across his nose. They clung to each other like the world could end at any second, like their lips were the only thing keeping them from the abyss.

“I always knew you would break my heart.”

 

They had chased the Viddasala through eluvian after eluvian, running around that strange library full of ancient thoughts to find their way. Kahlan seemed worse and worse after every fight, the mark creeping up his forearm. It would burst every few minutes, leaving Kahlan screaming until the pain subsided. The pain etched on his lover’s face ripped at Dorian’s gut, and he held Kahlan’s right hand as much as he could, pausing when he could to kiss the dwarf or whisper his love into Kahlan’s ear.

 

The huge Saarebas lay dead on the ground in front of the eluvian; the mark that was consuming Kahlan had consumed him, too. Dorian felt like a spooked horse; this was it, he knew it. This was the end.

“Please,” Dorian begged. “Let me come with you. Amatus, I can help. Please, please.”

Kahlan cupped Dorian’s face in his good hand, stroking a thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you,” Kahlan whispered, pulling Dorian forward into a kiss, far too brief, a fleeting press of lips when they both ached to live in each other.

Kahlan looked at Cassandra and Varric, and said, “take care of him, please, when I’m-“

“Amatus,” Dorian pleaded.

Cassandra said, “Yes. It has been an honor.”

Kahlan pressed another kiss to the corner of Dorian’s lips. All he tasted of was elfroot and blood.

The eluvian shivered as Kahlan pressed through it, a deceptively beautiful prism. Dorian heard someone screaming. Varric’s hand was on his shoulder, restraining him. “Sparkler,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Dorian realized it had been him. He didn’t stop.

“It’s not fucking fair!” he screamed, collapsing to the ground. His heart had just disappeared through an eluvian and left him to clean up the mess, left him broken, beating his fists bloody against the ground. Fire sprung to life below his feet, catching easily in the dry grass, burning his grief into the place that had taken the only thing he lived for.

Cassandra stood a few feet away, not trying to interfere. “Sometimes the Maker is kind. Sometimes, he is not.”

 

Dorian had refused to leave. They wouldn’t let him go after Kahlan, so Dorian remained in a circle of scorched earth. He wished they would leave him there. Varric continued to try and convince him to leave, but Dorian could not even look at him.

They couldn’t have been there long- little tendrils of smoke still rose from the grass- but every second felt like an eternity. And there, the eluvian was shivering again. Dorian hoped the Viddasala had let his Kahlan die quickly, and would do him the same courtesy before Cassandra and Varric killed her.

But it was not the Viddasala. Shock rooted Dorian to the ground- it was him, it was him, it was him. He was alive, he was walking out of the eluvian, and his arm-


End file.
